Prisoner's Dilemma
by babyblue97
Summary: A recently-released Franky Doyle is trying her best to live by the books, all in the company of her former mentor turned girlfriend Erica Davidson. How will this dynamic change when Bridget Westfall comes into the picture?
1. Chapter 1

At first, she thought her mind was simply playing tricks on her. After all, what were the odds that the one person she had prayed she'd never see again, the one person that had taken almost two years of therapy despite being a _therapist_ to get over, would be in the same exact place as her, at the same exact time, only months after her last therapy session? Either fate had a twisted and cruel sense of humor, or someone above was determined to make her life torture. Having left many people angry and bitter over her years, the latter was probably most likely. Whatever the reason being, Bridget Westfall had suddenly found herself in an entirely compromising situation.

Not fifteen feet away from where she sat in a corner booth with one hand clutching onto the ice cold beer in front of her, and the other clenched in a fist in her lap, was Franky Doyle. She wasn't alone either. In front of her was an intimidatingly beautiful blonde in a shockingly tight black dress, seemingly taking great pleasure in keeping Franky _preoccupied._ Her head was thrown back against Franky's shoulder, one hand resting on her thigh and the other hooked around her neck as she kept her gyrating hips pressed firmly against Franky's pelvis in a way that Bridget deemed entirely inappropriate. Judging by the characteristic smirk across Franky's face and the way her hands gently trailed down her _companions_ sides before resting on her hips as if to guide the blonde's movements, she didn't mind very much.

But Bridget minded. She minded _very_ much. She'd be an idiot to even pretend to pretend she didn't. Therapy hadn't prepared her for this. She never thought she'd have to face Franky again, and now that she had she knew she wasn't ready to. Making a mental note to never come to this club again, she quickly grabbed her purse and gave a courteous nod to the bartender before slipping through the throng of drunk, sweaty, twenty-something's and towards the exit before Franky could notice her. She was only twenty feet away from the door, if her estimates were correct. Surely she could slip by unnoticed, right? She kept her head down and weaved her way through a group of girls, laughing and crying at the same time. Fifteen feet. She could hear a man drunkenly arguing on the phone with what she presumed was his wife, saying that he had no choice and his friends dragged him out.

" _That_ _'_ _ll_ go over well _,_ _"_ Bridget muttered under her breath.

Ten feet. She ducked, suddenly, narrowly avoiding having a bunch of drunken men crashing into her with an armful of drinks. The one with blonde hair turned around and shouted what she presumed was an apology, although she couldn't hear him over the blaring music. Five feet. _Almost there._ She heard a commotion behind her, grunting and apologies mixing together before one familiar voice rose above the others, sending chills down her spine and stopping her in her tracks.

"Gidget?"


	2. Chapter 2

_She heard a commotion behind her, grunting and apologies mixing together before one familiar voice rose above the others, sending chills down her spine and stopping her in her tracks._

" _Gidget?_ _"_

 **Chapter 2**

Her first instinct was to pretend not to have heard her, but as she had already paused mid-step, she was more than certain that she'd screwed herself out of playing that card. She slowly put her foot back on the ground, although she hadn't yet turned around. She wasn't sure she wanted to either. She didn't think she could bear to look into those shiny green eyes that had been filled with anger, accusation, and tears the last time they'd looked into hers. What would she see now if she turned around? Would those eyes be happy? She knew Franky well enough to know that in the end that's all she truly wanted-to be happy. That's all anyone wanted really, but Franky more so than other individuals. What a shame Bridget couldn't be the one to give it to her, although she'd wanted to so badly.

"Turn around Gidget," Franky ordered, some of her former street attitude seeping into her voice.

"I-I don't think I can," Bridget admitted, finally finding her voice. "I had no idea you'd be here."

Behind her, Bridget heard Franky snort before feeling the sudden warmth of her body transferring to her own as she pressed up against Bridget, both hands on either side of her waist. Bridget tensed, but didn't pull away. Franky's hot breath washed over her neck as she rested her forehead in the crook of her neck, her hands sliding farther down until they were resting on the very tops of her thighs.

"Stop," Bridget whispered, unable to push her away but so badly wanting to. Her touch was like poison, seeping into her veins and setting her on fire. It was painful, almost to the point of pleasure.

"Haven't you missed me Gidge?" Franky crooned. "What's the matter? You seem tense."

"Please," she breathed. "I can't Franky. Let me go."

Franky laughed, suddenly pulling back and giving Bridget a playful shove towards the door. The sudden loss of physical contact was like a cold bucket of water being dumped on her. She had missed her more than she thought, something she didn't even know was possible. Before she could stop herself she turned around.

Seeing her for the first time in almost three years, truly _seeing_ her, was like coming up for air. Even with her eyes burning holes into her skull and her arms crossed over her chest angrily, she was just as perfect as she'd remembered, even more so. Her green eyes were an even more brilliant shade, the laugh lines around her eyes even more pronounced, which Bridget found sexy as hell. Her hair that could never quite decide if it wanted to be brown or black was only slightly longer. And her _body._ Her dark pants, white shirt and even darker jacket clung to her in all the right places, covering her tattoos and flaunting her flawless figure. Looking at her made Bridget's heart hurt. _She_ _'_ _d missed her so much._

"If you're done checking me out, you can go now" Franky remarked. "You were certainly in a hurry to get away from me five minutes ago. Guess some things never change, eh?"

"That's not fair," Bridget sighed, knowing full well she was playing right into her hands. "I _had_ to go, Franky. I didn't have a choice."

"Everyone has a choice," she shot back coldly.

"I didn't."

Whatever smart remark Franky was getting ready to fling off the tip of her tongue came to a grinding halt as the blonde she'd been dancing with earlier walked up to Franky, taking her hand in her own. Giving her a small smile and briefly pressing her lips to Franky's neck, paying absolutely no attention to Bridget, she tugged her playfully towards the dance floor.

"I was wondering where you'd run off to," she laughed. "Come on Franky, let's dance yeah?"

"Yeah," Franky replied, not taking her eyes of Bridget. "I'm done here."


	3. Chapter 3

"So are you going to tell me why you ditched me for that blonde slag who looked like she had a pole shoved up her arse, or are we pretending it didn't happen?" Erica finally asked.

After Bridget had run off, Franky hadn't felt much like dancing and convinced Erica that her pounding headache required nursing at home. Erica had obliged and driven her home, all the while neither mentioning the strange exchange between Franky and the mysterious blonde who'd looked like she was sucking on lemons when Erica had so conveniently interrupted. She'd been patient, giving Franky time to shower and put an ice pack on her head before settling into bed next to her. Now it was time to get some answers.

"So?" she prompted.

Franky groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose, sliding down further in the queen sized bed the two shared. She really wasn't in the mood to have this conversation, and she really _really_ didn't want to have it with _Erica_ of all people. Bridget had come to her in a time when she was still having trouble getting over Erica leaving her, a subject that was still quite touchy between the two, so she had a feeling this topic wouldn't be the best.

"I don't want to talk about it," Franky sighed. "Let's just get some rest."

"I want to know who she was," she insisted. "Did you two serve time together?"

"You could say that," Franky snorted. "Look, I took care of it. Can we please just let it go?"

Without waiting for an answer, Franky reached over and turned the bedside lamp on her table, resisting the urge to punch the wall when Erica reached over and turned it right back on. Clearly, this was going to be a long night. Biting her lip to keep herself from saying anything stupid, Franky closed her eyes and prayed that Erica come to her senses and drop it. Of course, that would have been much to easy for the former governor. When she wanted answers, she stopped at nothing to get them.

"I really care about you," Erica sighed. "Why can't you just be honest with me?"

Franky continued to clench her teeth and grip her pillow, not moving a muscle. Erica let out an exasperated sigh and trailed her hands from Franky's shoulder, down her arm, until she reached her hand and laced their fingers together. Franky still refused to acknowledge her existence, instead focusing very hard on keeping her mouth shut.

"Should I be worried?" Erica asked softly. "You and her…you don't have a history do you?"

"What does that even matter?" Franky finally snapped. "If I say yes, what are you going to do? Break up with me?"

Erica groaned and pulled her hand out of Franky's, flopping onto the pillow next to her. For every step forward, it was like being forced five steps back. Why couldn't they just be honest with each other?

"I know you've had relationships with other women," Erica began calmly. "I'm not going to ruin ours because of it. I just-"

"Just what?" Franky interrupted angrily. "Huh?"

"I just never thought I'd run into one of them on our fucking _date night_ ," Erica snapped. "That's what Franky."

Franky sat up abruptly, the look on her face very closely resembling that to the one Bea Smith had on her face before plunging that pen into Jacs Holt's neck. Letting out a frustrated groan, Franky slammed her fist on the headboard before flinging the covers off of her and starting towards the door. She heard Erica scrambling to get out of bed behind her, but paid it no difference. Yanking her jeans on and then her shoes, she allowed a series of curses to flow from her mouth.

"Franky, you can't just leave because you don't want to have a conversation!" Erica called from behind her.

Franky ignored her, grabbing her keys from the stand in the hallway and shrugging into her jacket. A quick glimpse in the mirror showed a raving lunatic, but at the moment she couldn't have cared less. Yanking open the door, she started towards the car.

"Franky, don't go!" Erica called. "Come back inside and we'll talk about it."

"If I wanted to talk I'd just stay here," Franky spat out, the old Franky Doyle attitude slowly seeping through the cracks little by little.

"Where are you gonna go, Franks? It's 3 am!" Erica shouted.

Franky just shrugged and slid into the car, giving Erica a half-assed salute before backing out of the driveway. She hated the sight of Erica standing on the front lawn, shivering, her arms wrapped around her as tears ran down her face but she couldn't deal with this right now. She needed to cool her head and think about things. She knew she was gonna face a shitstorm when she got back home, so she figured she'd just make the most of it and go to the nearest bar. If there's one thing Erica hated, it's when Franky ended their arguments by storming out and getting plastered.

" _Perfect end to a perfect night._ _"  
_

She pulled into the closest bar she found, making a mental note to be back before 6 so she and Erica could kiss and makeup before she had to leave for work. The last time Erica had gone to work when the two were on bad terms, she'd spent the whole day blowing up her phone with calls, texts and voicemails. Couldn't have that again.

Taking a seat at the bar stool, she couldn't help but laugh at and curse out whatever deity was watching over her and playing with the strands of fate when she saw who was occupying the chair next to her.

"Never pegged _you_ as a early morning drinker Gidget," Franky smirked.

"Just drink your brew and leave me alone Franky," Bridget sighed, bringing her own mug to her lips and swallowing.

Franky frowned and reached up to wrap her hand around Bridget's, slowly lowering her mug to the bar counter. Bridget didn't look pleased but she didn't say anything, nor did she move her hand away.

"What's the matter with you Gidge?" Franky asked softly. "Drinking at this hour? Something's going on with you."

"Why do you care?" Bridget snorted. "I saw you dancing with that woman tonight. Why are you here instead of with her?"

Franky frowned and removed her hand from Bridget's. She had run off to escape this exact conversation with Erica, she'd be damned if she was having it with Bridget.

"I don't want to talk about myself," Franky announced.

Bridget rolled her eyes. Some things never changed. It had been one of the most difficult things to get Franky to open up and talk about herself, so it didn't surprise her that she wouldn't want to talk about herself now. Especially after the way things had been left between the two of them. Before she could stop herself, her mind flashed back.

" _I don_ _'_ _t understand,_ _"_ _Franky said._ _"_ _Why are you leaving me? You_ _'_ _re the only person in here who gives a shit about what I have to say._ _"_

 _"_ _I_ _'_ _m not leaving you Franky, I_ _'_ _m leaving the prison,_ _"_ _Bridget sighed._ _"_ _It_ _'_ _s not personal._ _"_

 _"_ _Bullshit._ _"  
_

 _Bridget closed her eyes, so as to shut out the mental image of Franky_ _'_ _s hurt and accusatory stare burning holes into her face. She hated this. She hated that things had become so muddied between them that she was backed into a corner. Franky was right and they both knew it. This was about more than leaving the prison. But if Bridget didn_ _'_ _t want any stains on her otherwise spotless career, and if Franky wanted to get out from under Ferguson_ _'_ _s radar, this is what she had to do. She had no choice._

" _I want you to promise me that you_ _'_ _ll continue your programs,_ _"_ _Bridget began. She knew her pleas were probably in vain but it was worth the effort. Franky_ _'_ _s disbelieving glare told her it was a waste._

" _Fuck the programs,_ _"_ _Franky snarled._ _"_ _I don_ _'_ _t want to see any other bloke, Bridget. Not if they aren_ _'_ _t you. You understand me._ _"_

 _"_ _I understand you because you let me in. If you just give the psychologist the same effort you give me-_ _"_

" _Save it, will you?_ _"_ _she spat out._ _"_ _Look if you want to leave me that_ _'_ _s fine, but don_ _'_ _t try to pretend that this was just therapy session. It was more than that and everyone knows it. What we have, I_ _'_ _ll never have with any other therapist._ _"_

 _"_ _I_ _'_ _m not taking away from the valuable time we spent together,_ _"_ _Bridget explained._ _"_ _I think we can agree that we both got a lot out of these sessions, but I don_ _'_ _t want them to go to waste._ _"_

 _"_ _So don_ _'_ _t go._ _"_

 _"_ _I have no choice,_ _"_ _she whispered._ _"_ _These rumors have me backed into a corner. Staying here won_ _'_ _t look good for either of us._ _"_

 _"_ _I_ _'_ _m in prison,_ _"_ _Franky grinned._ _"_ _Can_ _'_ _t look much worse than that._ _"_

 _"_ _Franky-_ _"_

 _"_ _No, i_ _'_ _m done with this conversation Gidge,_ _"_ _she interrupted._ _"_ _If you leave, we are done. For good._ _"_

 _Without waiting for an answer, Franky stood up and shot her one last look before asking the guard to escort her back to her cell. Little did she know that would be the last time the two saw or spoke to one another again._

Until now.

The sudden jangling of bells above the door signaling someone's entrance snapped Bridget back to reality and she turned back to Franky.

"If you want to blame me, go ahead" Bridget sighed. "Whatever makes you feel better. Just know that I did what I did for both our benefits, and if you want to punish me for that fine. Let's just stay out of each others ways."

Franky looked at her in surprise mixed with a bit of amusement at Bridget's sudden fire flaming up, but said nothing more. Slamming a few bills onto the counter, she made her way to the exit and prayed Franky didn't follow her. And she didn't. That was until she got to the car. As she opened the door to get in, she felt a hand close in around her wrist and drag it behind her back as she used her body to press Bridget's against the car.

"Don't try to make me out to be the bad guy here Gidge," Franky hissed in her ear. "And don't pretend you left the prisoner because you were afraid of Ferguson. You left because you were in love with me and you didn't know how to handle that."

"Fuck off!"

"Maybe I'll just fuck you," she smirked. "How about it love? There's no policies to hide behind now." 

Laughing, Franky finally released the struggling Bridget. Turning around, Bridget did something she never thought she would and raised her hand towards Franky. However, the ex cons reflexes were faster than she expected and she had both her hands locked around her wrists in a vice grip and raised above her head before she really knew what was happening. For awhile, none of them moved. It had been ages since Bridget had felt this vulnerable. With Franky's body against hers, her hands above her head, and her face close enough to feel her breath on her own lips, she had never felt so exposed. She wanted to tell her to stop, but found she'd lost her ability to speak.

"You were really gonna hit me?" Franky asked incredulously.

Still Bridget couldn't find her voice. Not that it mattered because she wouldn't have had time to answer anyway. Before she knew what was happening, Franky crushed her mouth onto hers. Her tongue swiped across Bridget's bottom lip begging for an entrance, and it didn't take much convincing for her to open. Their tongues clashed together, Franky's mouth expertly doing most of the work. She slowly released Bridget's hands, wrapping both arms around her waist and pulling her in closer. Bridget knew this was a bad idea, but she didn't care. She cupped Franky's face, deepening the kiss as much as she could, all the while thinking the same thing in the back of her mind.

 _I. Am. Fucked._


	4. Chapter 4

_Bridget knew this was a bad idea, but she didn_ _'_ _t care. She cupped FRanky_ _'_ _s face, deepening the kiss as much as she could, all the while thinking the same thing in the back of her mind._

 _I. Am. Fucked._

 **Chapter 4**

When Franky had kissed Erica for the first time, she stopped believing in true love. All her life she had heard that when you found your soulmate, you would see actual fireworks behind your eyelids the minute your lips touched. She had heard that it gave you feelings you had never felt before, or at least hadn't felt in a very long time. She had heard that it would be life-changing. When she kissed Erica, she felt none of these things. However, she knew she loved Erica. And Erica loved her too. Erica waited years for her to get out, and when she finally did she was right their waiting for her. You just didn't do things like that for people you didn't love. So yes, Franky loved her, but she knew it wasn't the fairly tale kind of love like Doreen would always wail on about with her precious Nash. Their love was real, and raw, and open.

So why on God's green Earth did she see fireworks when Bridget's lips pressed against hers?

The minute their lips touched, it was like someone reignited a fire inside Franky that she never knew existed. Bridget's hands on her face made her feel like she was on fire, but in the best way. It was almost as if she could die in her arms right then from the bliss she felt, but Franky knew it wouldn't have even felt like dying. She and Bridget had danced around each other for ages, and now that they were finally together, Franky knew she had it wrong this whole time. Her entire future was flashing before her eyes. She could see it so clearly now-the haze surrounding her once blurred future slowly peeled away, revealing a clarity she had never seen in it before. She saw only one thing-Bridget's kind and patient face calmly waiting for her. Bridget was the one, she saw that now.

But it still wasn't enough.

Franky abruptly pulled back, both gasping for air as they stared at one another wide-eyed and unable to move-frozen in time. Bridget's hands were still cradling her face and Franky slowly released Bridget's shoulders and reached up to grab them, gently prying them away. She didn't let go though, instead intertwining them and letting them fall between their bodies.

"Did you-I mean-are you ok?" Bridget asked concernedly. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Franky repeated confusedly. "For what?"

"I know there's someone else Franky," Bridget sighed quietly. "That woman at the club."

 _Erica._ Her face floated into Franky's mind without warning, her haunted eyes that always seemed to stare into Franky's soul staring at her now, reminding her that she was waiting at home for her, probably sick out of her mind.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Franky sighed. "This time it's on me. Look this-this was a mistake. I was out of line. I need to get home." 

"Franky wait-"

"Bye Bridget."

 **I apologize for this being so short but I am ridiculously busy with summer classes and moving processes, so here** **'** **s a little something to hold you over until I can get an actual chapter uploaded.**


	5. Chapter 5

_Walking away from someone should never be this hard._

These words continued to run through Franky's head as she sat in front of Erica's house. It was almost six in the morning which meant the blonde beauty would be leaving for work any moment. If Franky was smart, she'd walk up into that house and tell Erica she loved her, and that she was sorry, and kiss her until she couldn't breathe anymore. But Franky had never been a liar. And how could she tell Erica she loved her when she loved Bridget more?

What Franky and Bridget had was not something that she had ever shared with anyone else. Bridget had built trust between them, helping to better Franky as a person, showing interest in getting into her head before her pants. With Erica, it was different. Erica was a good person. Beautiful, inside and out. But Erica had been confused on what she wanted from the start. She wanted into Franky's pants but she was engaged to a man. She hadn't answered any of Franky's letters but she was waiting for her when she stepped outside the gates of Wentworth. For the first three months of Franky's parole, it had been a roller coaster of a relationship. Honestly, it couldn't even be defined as a relationship. Erica would insist that she wanted to work things out with her ex-fiance and tell Franky to stay away, only to find her two weeks later and fuck her brains out. And like a fool who had waited so long to get what she wanted, Franky went back every time. Finally, they and settled into a good place. Erica had done away with Mark-for good. She chose Franky and even moved her into her house, telling her she wanted to build a life with her. And that's what had been their focus for the past 6 months.

But Bridget. Bridget had never yanked Franky's chain or misled her. She had always known what she wanted. She told Franky from the beginning that she wanted her-mind and body-and Franky had fucked her over. She had blamed her for leaving even when she knew in the back of her mind that Bridget was doing the best that she could to protect them both. Bridget had always had her best interests in mind. She had shown her how to trust, had always had her back. And it was mutual-Franky loved her back.

But she loved Erica too.

It wasn't fair to Erica to throw away everything they had worked for because of what may or may not happen with Bridget. Bridget didn't even want to be with her, she had made that much clear. But she'd be damned if that didn't make her want the former forensic psychologist even more.

"Fuck you!" Franky cursed, slamming her hand against the driving wheel. "Fuck you Gidget!"

"Well now," a voice chuckled from beside her. "That's not very nice is it."

Franky whipped around, her heart nearly coming to a standstill as she tried to register the fact that the object of her desire and frustration was sitting next to her. In her car. Not ten feet away from the house she shared with Erica, smiling as if there wasn't anything unordinary about just popping up out of the blue.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing here?" Franky spat out. "Erica-"

"I don't want to hear about fucking Erica," Bridget snapped.

"What part of goodbye don't you understand?" Franky shot back. "You need to leave. Now. If Erica comes out and sees us-"

"I don't give a fuck about Erica," Bridget interrupted. "I don't. But you? I love you. You know I love you Franky, I always have. And I know you love me to."

"Now is not the time to do this," Franky insisted. "Look, _you_ left _me_. You walked away."

"I was protecting you," Bridget argued. "I'm always going to protect you because I love you."

" _Would you quit saying that?_ _"_ Franky screamed. "I don't love you Gidge, I can't. It hurts too much. I used to love you but you walked away from me. I begged you stay and you didn't! I _hate_ you. I hate you, I swear to God I hate-God I fucking love you!"

Franky collapsed against the wheel, her hair shielding her face as she crumbled. Sobs racked her body as the confession spilled from her lips unwillingly, the image of Bridget's shocked face the last thing she saw. She hated herself for this, for being weak and vulnerable in front of the women she loved. _One_ of the women she loved. And she hated Bridget even more for making her feel this way.

 _Walking away from someone should never be this hard._


End file.
